Expecting You
by ttfan111robstar1
Summary: Katniss is married to Peeta and is pregnant with his child. But when Peeta gets kidnapped, will it be the end of a family that never got started? Warning: Graphic sexual violence


"To love a person is to learn the song that is in their heart, and to sing it to them when they have forgotten." - Author unknown

I sit in the doctors office of District 13, clutching Peeta's hand tightly. He's been waiting for this for years, and I'd hate to let him down. For the past few months, we have been trying to get pregnant. Finally, the doctor calls my name. "Good afternoon, Mrs. Mellark." says doctor Odion. His last name reminds me painfully of Finnick Odair And for just a moment, I allow myself a second of grief. "Shall we get down to it then?" Peeta and I nod. "Mrs. Mellark, you are pregnant." My first reaction, as per my usual these days, is to look to Peeta for any reaction. He is grinning at me- ear to ear. He squeezes my hand and I smile at him. I feel my heart race as the doctor gives me a plethora of prescriptions. He tells us to come back in a month, and Peeta and I thank him and leave his office- Peeta ecstatic and myself contemplative. He had wanted them for years, but I had never given children much thought, always focused on my survival or someone else's. Now this little baby would depend on Peeta and I for everything. Without warning, the tears started flowing down my cheeks, provoked by a fear of being a terrible mother and the even worse fear of having a child put into the games. Emotions flew by at a hundred miles an hour, breaking me down. Peeta looked at me quizzically, and slightly shocked before wrapping his arms around me. We are just outside of the office when I fall to my knees, suddenly dizzy and confused. "Katniss? Katniss?!" Peeta's voice grows panicked. The wave of nausea that hits me has a greater force than a tsunami, and I run behind the bushes to vomit. Peeta follows, holding my hair back. I lean on his shoulder as he tries to help me walk back home. Mercifully, it is not too long a distance away and we arrive home intact. Peeta lays me gently on the couch, and I realize how frail I must look to him. I stroke his cheek, feeling it was a monumental effort just to lift my arm. After twenty minutes of lying there with Peeta mumbling prayers beneath his breath, I convince him of feeling better and stand. I stumble a little and make it to the center of the room seemingly easily enough. Peeta leaves for a moment to get me a glass of water- and that's when the world tilted sickly on its side. I see a pair of legs in the doorway before everything goes black

. ***

Peeta's POV

I hear the thud first. I immediately drop the glass in my hand and rush into the living room. I hear the glass shatter on the floor, but pay no mind to it. My wife needs me. I dart around the corner to see Katniss passed out in the center of the room with Haymitch standing in the doorway. I rush to Katniss, brushing the hair back from her forehead. "Katniss?" I shake her gently. "Katniss?" She does not wake. I shoot a worried look at Haymitch before picking up Katniss' slender body and laying her back on the couch. I turn to Haymitch. By the stance he took I could see he was a little drunk, but not completely inebriated. I figured he wanted more booze. I pull a bottle from the bottom cabinet and hand it to him, and he gives a wayward smile at me. "Always the care giver." He says, glancing toward Katniss. I nod curtly. "What's wrong with her?" He asks. "Nothing." the reply is terse. Haymitch glances at me knowingly, understanding that there was more to this than I led on. I sighed. For a drunken victor, he is pretty smart. "Katniss is pregnant." There I said it. The bottle in Haymitch's hand falls to the floor, sending Vodka spilling onto the carpet. For a moment, his face is shocked, but then it splits into a grin. "Finally got the courage to knock her up, eh?" He chuckles. I frown, still thinking of Katniss lying on the floor. Haymitch pats me on the back. "Eh, congrats. You'll be a good dad." I flinch. The remark was so... Not Haymitch. I nod my thanks and crack a smile. It fades quickly as I analyze Katniss and the possible damage that could have been done. Haymitch sees this as his opportunity to leave and waves his goodbyes. I turn and kiss Katniss' forehead before leaving to find a broom, mop, and cloth to clean the shattered glass in the kitchen and the vodka on the carpet. It was just after sweeping the glass that I heard Katniss stir. I dropped the broom and ran to her side.

Katniss POV

"Katniss? Katniss?" I can barely make out Peeta's voice in my haze of unconsciousness. I want to reassure him, tell him I'm here and always will be, but I can't feel my lips. He makes a small sound that sounds like a whimper, and I want to reach out to Caress his face but my arms remain immobile at my sides. I feel tethered to the darkness that binds me to unconsciousness. I struggle relentlessly against the bonds, and finally, one breaks. I free myself of the other and then burst out, running toward the light. My eyes flutter open and I see Peeta's bright blue eyes staring down at me. He smiles and kisses my forehead. "Hey." He says. I give him a weak smile in return. I could swear I felt the earth moving beneath me. "Hey. How long was I out?" I asked. "Half an hour." Huh. Shorter than I expected. I attempt to sit up, but Peeta puts a hand on my shoulder and pushes me back down. "You need to rest." His voice was calming and even. I decided, grudgingly, that he was right. I was asleep before my head hit the pillow.

The next three months were a blur of odd cravings, vomiting, exhaustion, and mood swings. I briefly recall throwing a glass at Peeta's head over finding an empty bottle of milk in the fridge. I also remember crying for two hours afterward. Now, I am just beginning to show, And am glowing in rapture. I feel well enough to go take a walk, so I head into the forest. I enjoy the familiarity and comfort that comes with the trees. I go to just a little away from the center of the forest when I feel the sudden urge to get home. My instincts scream danger to me and I begin to run. I round the corner to our small home. The door is open. "Peeta?" I call. No answer. "Peeta?" my tone escalates, as does my worry. I am filled with dread. I see his wedding ring on the floor, pick it up and put it in my pocket. I run to Haymitch's house next door. "Haymitch?" I find him asleep on the couch with a bottle of Grey Goose in one hand. I shake him briskly. No luck, so I throw a bucket of water on him. He pulls a knife and shrieks a bit. He breathes a sigh of relief when he sees it is only me. "What-" I intervene so quickly that he can't finish. "Peeta's been kidnapped!" My voice is filled with hysteria. It takes Haymitch a minute to catch on to what I have said. He can tell I'm serious. Even as a drunkard he understands that much. "I'll get Plutarch."

Peeta POV

I am broken. Shattered in a million pieces. Her voice is screaming for me. "Peeta! Peeta please! Help me!" she is sobbing, just as broken as I am. Her screams reverberate off of the wood floor. I have heard nothing but this for hours. "Peeta, PEETA! Why won't you help me?! Why won't you help the baby?!" That catches me completely off guard. No one else outside of Katniss and I (excluding Haymitch) knew she was pregnant. It had to be her. I begin to weep, clamping my hands over my ears and curling up into a ball. I have only been here a few hours, but have already experienced enough pain in here that would rival even the hunger games. For starters, I am in solitary confinement. I have had nothing but a piece of bread and a sip of water- barely enough to keep me alive, (if you could call this living) let alone endure physical torture. Every Hour on the hour, a group of five or so men would come in and beat me senseless. Why couldn't I just die already? I answered that myself. Katniss and the baby needed me, and I couldn't abandon them. Even if it costs me my sanity.

Katniss POV

It's been three weeks since Peeta was kidnapped. Every day it gets harder to go on, to present myself to the public eye. I have waited endlessly for news about Peeta, only to be disappointed in the end. Without him, I lost the will to function, so much so that my mother has had to come by three times a day to force feed me my meals. But today, we caught a break. "We know where he is." Says Plutarch, and I cannot find words to express my relief. "Is he alright?" I am exasperated. "He's been tortured by a small group of President Snow's followers who are bent on killing the two of you. We will have a team infiltrate the camp tomorrow night, and should have him back by the next morning." I look at Haymitch, who is standing on Plutarch's left. "Haymitch, will you go with them?" He looks at me, taken aback. "Someone he really cares about should be there." Clearly, I couldn't be because of my pregnancy. Haymitch nods. "Wish me luck, sweetheart."

Haymitch POV We took the choppers at midnight. Myself, Plutarch, and three others were crammed into one helicopter. We knew where Peeta was- in a cabin atop a mountain not twenty minutes west of district 12. I am concerned for his well being- although I well deny it. His positive attitude was uplifting. What condition will we find him in? I wonder. I take a swig of whiskey from a small flask in my shirt pocket. Bad. That was the answer. Anything involving president snow was terrible. I mumble a short prayer under my breath. Despite what I say, I really do like the kid. Then, we land. The cabin door is cracked open slightly. I hear screaming. There are no people in sight. We rush forward, fearing capture. I am the first in. It is Katniss' voice I heard screaming. She is sobbing. "Peeta, PEETA! Why won't you help me?! Why won't you help the baby?! Please, make them stop, please!" she screams for him. I scan the room. There is little light in the room, but I am barely able to make out a huddled figure in the back corner. I go over to him. He has lost several pounds since I last saw him. He is curled into a ball on the floor with hands clasped over his ears. I can see he has been crying. He still is. I tap him on the shoulder. Above me, Katniss screams and a slap is heard. Peeta cringes and tightens his ball. "Peeta?" I shake him. He dosen't move. His expression is unchanged. Plutarch picks him up with ease. His muscles do not relax, his position keeps, and the tears flow steadily. We fly home in silence.

Katniss POV

I wait anxiously on the couch. Where could they be? Was Peeta OK? How badly was he hurt? I only had enough time to ponder these questions when Haymitch came in. I stood up straight away. "How is he? Is he alright? What happened?" I prattled off these questions so fast that I forgot to breathe. "He's alive." Haymitch whispers. I let go of a breath I didn't realize I was holding. It was the best I could hope for at the moment. "Can I see him?" I can see Haymitch's hesitation etched into his face, but he nods. "Be warned," He says, "when we found him, he was in pretty bad shape." I nod, gathering all my inner strength to go and see him. It didn't work. I sob as I look at the skinny, frail human being that is my husband. He is curled in a ball, just as he was (apparently) when they found him. With the florescent lighting, I can see the trails of fresh tears on his face. His hands are clamped over his ears. I take his wedding ring from my pocket, pry his fingers from his face, and slip it onto his left ring finger. I clasp his hand in mine and kiss his cheek. Unconsciously, my other hand goes to my stomach. "Peeta? Peeta, can you hear me?" my fingers trail over his hands. "He's been unresponsive so far." Says a doctor in the doorway. "I'm Doctor Adams." He reaches a hand out to me And I take it. "your husband is in a self-induced catatonic state." Says doctor Adams. I nod and turn to Haymitch. "Do you know, how he was..." I couldn't find the words to finish. He nods. "There was a tape of you, screaming for him playing when we got there, and he was clearly abused quite a bit. He was only given enough bread and water to survive." I clench my jaw in fury. But I can't fall apart, not when Peeta needs me. "May I have a moment alone with him?" I ask. They hesitate, but nod. I look at Peeta's face. There is a gash open on one cheek. His lips are swollen, and one eye is screwed shut. The other, still beautifully blue, is open and blank. But, somewhere underneath the bruises and cuts is the man I married. I want to find him again. I move my other hand from my stomach to his face. "Oh Peeta, what have they done to you?" I murmur. "Please come back to me, Peeta," I begin to sob, "I can't do this alone. I-" I place my hand on my stomach again, "We, Need you." A tear hits his hand. Memories flash before my eyes in a warped blur: the games, healing him, kissing him for the first time, his proposal, our wedding vows, our first dance... I sob uncontrollably- it's just too much. Our first dance... Then, the idea hits me. I take his hands in mine, and begin to sing the song we danced to at our wedding- with a few minor edits, that is. "Never knew...I could feel like this It's like I've never seen the sky before Want to vanish inside your kiss, Every day I'm loving you more and more. Listen to my heart can you hear it sing? Come back to me and forgive everything... Seasons may change winter to spring, I Love You, till the end of time." I whisper the end so quietly that I doubt he could hear me. I kiss his forehead, and, just as I am about to leave, I hear in a hushed tone: "come what may." I gasp and turn around. Yes, it's him. "Come what may," His voice is getting stronger now. "Come what may, Come what may, I will love you," he is up and coming toward me. "I will love you!" Our voices blend perfectly "Until my dying day!" "Come what may! Come what may! Come what may!" His arms are wrapped around me. "I will love you, until my dying day." we kiss, and all the world melts away. I choke on my sobs and throw my arms around him. All of the emotions I'd repressed came pouring out, and I fell into Peeta's small arms. He nuzzled my neck with his nose as I cried. I am suddenly aware of all the subtle nuances of Peeta's body, And I pull away. He looks at me, confused. "You need to rest." I say. I tuck him into his bed and kiss him once more. I then ring for the doctor and pull his hand in mine. When I think he is asleep, I stand, preparing to leave. The grip on my hand tightens. I turn back to see Peeta wide awake and waiting for me. "Don't go." his voice breaks. His eyes look at me with such pleading that I can't bear to leave him that way. I am suddenly brought back to when Prim was four years old and asked to sleep with me after a bad nightmare. He looks just like she did that night. His eyes, so childlike and innocent, stared at me in terror. I hadn't realized the depth of his torture until now. I place my hand over his. "I'm not going anywhere."

For those first few days in the hospital, Peeta was my number one concern. I scarcely left his side, if only to shower, use the restroom, and get food. I constantly try to coax him into doing something- painting, sketching, anything to see a glimpse of the old Peeta, but each time I ask he refuses. He prefers to stare at me, as if I'm not tangible anymore. I constantly reassure him, in subtle ways- just like with Annie and Finnick, we always kept physical contact somehow. we have started to discuss baby names. Nothing good yet. During the day, the room was filled with light and laughter, but at night, all I could hear was the sound of Peeta screaming my name. Each time I wake him and reassure him that I'm here and will never leave. The one silver lining of being at the hospital all the time is that I am constantly being given new information about the baby. What names to choose from, nutritional facts, and just a general pleasant feeling. I am growing a little bigger every day. Peeta kisses my stomach. Today we are going to find out the sex of the baby. I flit about nervously. Peeta sits in a wheel chair beside me, holding my hand. The ultrasound technician spreads some sort of goo on my pelvis. I hold my breath. "It's a boy!" the technician announces. I look straight to Peeta, grinning so hard I fear my face will split in half. He is crying and smiling at me. We embrace and, for a moment, we are both completely at peace. This rare moment of peace is overshadowed by my fear for the baby. What if I was doing something wrong? I begin to cry. Peeta seems to sense my concerns and holds me, rubbing small circles on his back. "It's going to be alright, Katniss." He says. I look right into his eyes. "You're going to be a great father." I say. "You'll be a wonderful mother." He says. For a moment, I believe him.

Peeta POV

At first, everything was black. I could see nothing but darkness and hear nothing but her screams. They have broken me. I am a shell of the man I once was. I have lost all hope in humanity. I have nothing left. Only her. Her memory is the only thing keeping me alive. I may never see Katniss again. I may never meet my unborn child. These thoughts plague me as the minutes, hours, days, and weeks go on. I lose the strength to resist them and am about to succumb to unconsciousness when my shoulder is shaken. I don't notice. I am vaguely aware of being lifted off of the ground and somehow being set onto a bed. I don't care anymore. Suddenly, a voice rings out clear and true through the darkness. It is Katniss, singing our wedding song. I find my eyes again and blink. It's her. No hallucinations. I move my lips and, somehow, the sound comes out. She whips around. I sing to her again, loving the sound of her sweet soprano tones blending with my gruff tenor voice. They complimented each other perfectly- like two puzzle pieces would fit together. I kissed her with a fiery passion that no one but herself could have sparked. I missed her so much. She cries, dampening my shoulder with fresh tears. She suddenly pulls away, and my eyebrows furrow in confusion. "You need to rest." she says. I allow her to tuck me into bed, feeling like a small child. My eyes begin to close wearily. She thinks I'm asleep- I can tell. She gets up and starts to leave, but I tug on her hand. "Don't go." I plead. I fear that somehow this is all a surreal dream. She is the only thing tethering me to reality. Her hand finds mine and she whispers: "I'm not going anywhere."

Katniss rarely left my side those first few days, and for that I was extremely grateful. The worst of it is when she leaves. Then the voices and sounds of her screaming return, despite my best efforts to shut them out. So I cling to my last thread of sanity as best I can. We spent our days talking about everything from weather to the baby. We even got on the topic of bad childhood habits that we had, trying to figure out which ones the baby might get. I sucked my thumb as a child, and she bit her nails. We start to talk about names for the baby, but realize nothing is concrete yet. I kiss her stomach as we enter the ultrasound technicians office. I hold my breath until they announce the sex. "It's a boy!" A dozen emotions fly by me at once. Happiness, sadness, excitement, terror, just to name a few. I smile, with tears in my eyes, Happy outward. Inside, I am terrified. How am I to be a good father? I wish I knew. My father was a good and attentive parent, but my mother... Mother never really cared for me, always focusing on the accomplishments of my brothers. To her, I was a bad painting in her art museum that she had to keep for appearances. I hated her for making me feel so inferior. For making me strive for her affection. I hated myself for wanting her approval. It is at this moment that Katniss begins to cry. I open my arms and she comes into them. "it's going to be alright, Katniss." I say. Inside I'm not as sure. She pulls away from me, and looks at me with her beautiful brown eyes. "You're going to be a great father." she says. Where would I be without this woman? "You'll be a wonderful mother." I tell her. Of this I am completely sure. She smiles at me and I kiss her. With Katniss at my side, we'll be the best parents any child could have. I am certain of it.

Katniss POV

Peeta has not been himself these past few days. He would wake up screaming several times during the night. Each time I would calm him down as best I could. It became harder for him to sleep, so much so that he took up his old childhood habit of thumb sucking just to catch even a few hours of sleep. I had been talking to his psychologist, who he'd been seeing since he was rescued from the cabin, and he suggested that the thumb sucking was a result of some sort of nervous break down. He'd asked me about Peeta, so I relayed the history of his traumas, from losing a leg in the games, to going back in, to being hijacked, to finding out of my pregnancy just before being kidnapped again and tortured. I sucked in a breath, realizing that he had been through even more than I had been in the past years. Going through two hunger games and losing a leg, being hijacked into believing I was a murderer, being tortured by President Snow's cronies. Add being a father to all that and that would be the perfect recipe for a break down. "What can I do to help?" I ask. Doctor Ordin, the psychologist, looks at me intently. "Nurture him. He needs to be reminded of those who care about him. If you do that, he should be better in no time." I nod my assent and give my genuine thanks as I shake his hand. I walk the short distance to Peeta's room to see him locked in a nightmare. I rush to his side and stroke his forehead. Usually, this calms him down. It didn't work. He thrashes about, crying in his sleep, sweat drenching his face. I calmly shake his shoulder to rouse him. He shrieks and bolts upright. I wait until he gains his bearings to touch his shoulder. He jumps, sees it's only me and relaxes. I open my arms and Peeta falls into them. He sobs quietly as I stroke his hair and hush him. I kiss the top of his head. I start to sing in a desperate attempt to soothe him. "Deep in the meadow, under the willow A bed of grass, a soft green pillow Lay down your head, and close your eyes And when they open, the sun will rise Here it's safe, and here it's warm Here the daisies guard you from every harm Here your dreams are sweet and tomorrow brings them true Here is the place where I love you." By the end of the short melody, Peeta was asleep. I study his face, so innocent as he slept. He slipped his thumb into his mouth. I realize how lucky I am to have him. Haymitch steps into the room then. I kiss Peeta's head one more time and turn off the light, shutting the door behind me. "What's up with Daddy dearest over there?" he asks. I can see he is more sober than normal. I tell him about the break down. For a moment, Haymitch looks thoughtful. He puts a hand on my shoulder. "He'll be fine. Don't worry about it, sweetheart." I consider this to most likely be the nicest comment Haymitch will ever give me, and smile. "Thank you." he nods. I change the subject. "So, how's Effie?" he begins on a rant that takes me all my concentration to understand. I smile and nod in the right places, and soon enough we part company. I turn on my heels and head back to Peeta.

Peeta POV

I curl into a ball on the floor. Crying, sobbing, broken. Someone drops my clothes behind me. "Now no one will want you." I am kicked across the room, and, desperate for comfort, put my thumb in my mouth and begin to suck, just as the door shuts. I used to do this when my mother hit me, but now I couldn't help it- it Made it easier not to cry. Katniss will never love me now. Suddenly, I am awake. I look around, terrified that my attacker is here, but find myself in a hospital room. I am alone. I turn onto my side and stick my thumb in my mouth. I can't help myself and I begin to cry. Someone needed to know. I couldn't tell Katniss, could I? Yes. She's my wife. I made a vow to stick with her through better or worse. I swallow the lump in my throat as she comes in. "Katniss?" I say hesitantly. She sits beside me and holds my hand. "What is it Peeta?" I take a breath. "In the cabin... Before you guys got there..." "yes?" "I was... Raped." She gasps and stares at me a moment, her hands over her mouth. Tears fill her eyes as they do mine, and I stick my thumb back in my mouth. She wraps her arms around me and cries. I cry with her, so broken and hurt. She pulls back to look me in the eyes. "I love you so much. Just know that you remain completely unchanged to me. You're still the man I married." I cry harder.

Katniss POV

It has been three days since Peeta confessed his rape to me. In that short amount of time, I have hit the six month mark in my pregnancy, managed to gather all of Peeta's friends at the hospital, and have found out more about him than I have ever known before. I gathered all of Peeta's friends here, knowing that in a time of such emotional turmoil, he needed to be surrounded by those who cared about him. He was asleep right now. I gathered three people that he knows well enough: Effie, Haymitch, and Delly Cartwright. I carefully explained why they were here. When I got to the heart of the matter, they were all dead silent. Even Haymitch can't deny the horror of it all. That is when Peeta starts to scream. I hold up a finger to the small group and rush in after him. He lays there on the bed, convulsing, crying, and screaming bloody murder. I kneel down beside him and take his hand in mine. I use my other hand to stroke his forehead and I hush him. His scream reaches an eerie crescendo right in my ear and he sits up, gasping for breath. I lay a hand on his back and wait for him to come back to reality. It takes him a minute, but he does. I hold him in my arms while he regains his bearings. When he does, he looks at me. "You have some visitors." I tell him. He raises an eyebrow, and I let them in. His expression brightens instantly when he sees Delly, Effie, and even Haymitch enter the room. "What are you all doing here?" He asks, looking from face to face. "I called them." I say. He shoots me a breathtaking smile and takes my hand in his. While he begins to talk to them, I study him. His features are more gaunt than they used to be, and his skin tone has been leached a pale, papery white. I have not really examined his body as of late, so I take the initiative to do so. He is so much thinner than he used to be, and his legs have become scrawny and stick-like. He's regressing, I think to myself. He looks much more like a five year old boy than a twenty-one year old man. Certainly he has picked up on those behaviors lately. Perhaps it's what he needs to heal, I reason. Yes, that's it. I want nothing more than to see Dr. Ordin about this, but I know I cannot see him until Peeta is asleep. Without me there, he will go back into that self-induced catatonic state that he was in when he got here. I am terrified for him. My hand goes to my stomach as I look at him. His face now is a mask- his laughter an automatic reflex, I can tell. This mask can fool everyone. But it doesn't fool me. The pain in his eyes cannot be hidden by anyone. I squeeze his hand gently. I love him so much. I take his hand and place it on my stomach. The baby kicks. His head whips around to stare at my stomach in awe. I smile, and he looks up at me, grinning like a fool. I kiss his cheek, and he gives me an Eskimo kiss. Delly pulls him back into the conversation. He is doing better than he was. I could hear Doctor Ordin's voice in my head, telling me to surround Peeta with those who care about him. I give a slight nod in invisible thanks. Peeta continues to talk to them for a few more hours before I declare that he needs to rest now. Peeta pouts at me but allows it. Doctor Adams gives me a nod of approval as he hooks an IV into Peeta's arm. He lays down quietly on the pillow as I brush his ashen blonde hair from his forehead. He shuts his eyes and lets me pet his head a bit longer. I can tell when he's fallen asleep by the way his breathing evens out. I head quickly to Doctor Ordin's office. "Ah, Katniss, please come in." He says, ushering me inside. I sit on the plush red velvet couch in his office. He sits across from me. "So, what can I do for you today?" he asks. I take in a deep breath. "Peeta has been through more than I suspected. A few days ago, he told me that he was raped in the cabin he was held in." Doctor Ordin's face remains calm and thoughtful. I hold my breath. "Mrs. Mellark, I'm not going to lie to you, your husband has been through more than most people can endure and still hold on to their sanity." My breath freezes in my throat. "However, that means he is stronger than most." I can breathe again. "what do you suggest?" I ask. "Have him talk about it. To anyone he trusts. It's the best way to get him out of his shell." I nod automatically. "Is he still sucking his thumb?" he asks. "Not as much as he was." I say, remembering that now it only happened during nightmares. He nods. "the thumb sucking is a coping skill," he tells me. "It's his way of going back to a time before any of this happened." I nod. "Is it safe for him?" I ask. "For the time being, it's helping." I affirm his statement with yet another nod. "Doctor," I ask as the minutes crawl by, "Is there any way to see what happened to him?" the doctor looks straight at me and slowly nods his head. "There is a machine that can show those memories- but he has to dream of them." I almost laugh at the absurdity of it all. "He has nightmares about it every night." Doctor Ordin nods. "We can get it here to you tomorrow if you'd like." he says. I give him my consent.

The next morning is a blur of signing forms and watching machinery be moved into Peeta's room. He is frightened, I can tell, of what is to come. The fear of not being able to wake up from a nightmare is one that I know well. Finally, at two o'clock, they are ready to begin. The last form I signed was one giving my consent for the doctors to use anesthesia on Peeta. I tried my best to explain it all to him, and, eventually, he agreed. I promise him that I will be there when he wakes. Finally, they start. They have Peeta count backwards from ten, and the anesthesia takes effect. I kiss his forehead as they turn on the monitor. At first I think they didn't turn it on, because the screen is so dark, but then I realize this must be the inside of the cabin he was held captive in. I wait. Peeta does not move at all. There is one small window in the cabin, through which moonlight is pouring in. It is then that I catch a gleam of something dark and shiny on the wooden floor. I realize with a pang of nausea that he is lying in a pool of his own blood. Suddenly, the door opens and light floods the room. Peeta is still. I remember Haymitch telling me that he was beaten often while in the cabin. He must of thought it was another beating. "Come on, let's go!" says a gruff voice. I cannot see his face. Suddenly, a circle of men surround Peeta and begin to savagely beat him. I shut my eyes, too horrified to watch. That doesn't stop my ears from picking up every howl of pain Peeta gives. "Hey, you," says one of the men, "Finish the job." The cabin is too dark to illuminate a face. The unzipping of pants can be heard clearly through Peeta's panting. And then, it begins. Peeta puts up a good fight from what I can tell, but the blood loss has taken it's toll and he collapses onto the floor. Peeta is silent throughout the entire ordeal, as is his attacker. At the end, I hear pants being zipped, and an eerie bass voice say in an echoing whisper, "She'll never want you now." and with that he spits on Peeta and leaves. The silence in the room is deafening. The only thing left to listen to are the sound of Peeta's broken sobs. He curls up into a ball and clamps his hands over his ears as sounds of me screaming fill the room. The last thing I hear before Peeta blacks out is him murmuring "I'm sorry" over and over again under his breath. *** I am stunned into silence. The only other people in the room are Doctor Ordin and Doctor Adams. Even their mouths are hung open wide from the brutality they've just seen. I cannot move. Tears are streaming down my face, although I cannot find the strength to sob. I curl my hand around Peeta's as the other one flies to my stomach. I clasp his hand tightly and remember a song that has floated into my head. "Hold my hand and we're half way there, hold my hand and I'll take you there... Somehow, someday, somewhere..." his face is not peaceful. I brush a few strands of hair from his eyes. The doctors have yet to speak. I want so badly to shake Peeta awake and throw my arms around him, but I know the anesthesia will keep him knocked out for a few more hours. Doctor Adams points out how amazing it is that Peeta survived the blood loss, let alone sexual trauma. I tell him that Peeta is a fighter. He nods. I thank them and ask for a moment alone with him. They nod their assent. My full attention is on Peeta now. I kiss his hand, and then, all of a sudden, the perfect name for the baby comes and smacks me in the face. "It's perfect." I whisper into his ear. I kiss his unmoving lips.

Peeta POV

The first thing I notice is a haze surrounding my vision. The Doctor tells me to count backward from ten, and I do. Ten, nine, eight, seven... By six I have lost all hope of having a coherent thought. By four the world has gone black. Then, the nightmare begins again. When it begins I always tend to see it as though I was floating above the cabin- seeing everything from an outsiders point of view. How weak I must look, how frail! And to think I was an actual victor in the hunger games! But this time, I'm myself. I still feel every bruise, every cut, and every shot at my body. I would have cried out were it not for blood loss. Then, the assault begins. My body goes into auto pilot as I start to get attacked. I keep thinking of Katniss- only she could keep me going in my darkest hour. I would have gone insane long ago were it not for her. God, I missed her. When it's over, I still hear the voice that tells me: "She'll never want you now." I still feel the utter horror of being spat upon and left to die. Still remember thinking of how sorry I was to Katniss. How I wanted to live for her, but knew I wouldn't make it. Her voice starts up again. Her screams are the song that lulls me to sleep. I curl into a ball and put my hands over my ears, wanting to filter out her words but not her voice. The voice that captured my heart at the tender age of five. Before I can think or say another word, the world is painted black.

Katniss POV

It is another three hours before Peeta wakes. I sit on the bed and kiss him on the top of his head, just as his eyes flutter open. Those beautiful blue eyes will never be the same to me now- they will always seem haunted to me. "Good evening, sleepyhead." I say playfully. He smiles weakly. "Evening." He mumbles. "Guess what?" I say, hoping to breathe some life into him. "What?" I can tell his head must feel loggy. "I thought of a name for the baby." This wakes him up, and his eyes twinkle with excitement. "Really?" He asks. I nod. "What is it?" I whisper it into his ear. A grin lights his face for the first time in days. "Katniss, it's perfect!" he says, kissing me. I laugh, so glad to have my Peeta back. "Now all we have to do is wait for him." I say. He kisses my stomach and mumbles something into it. When I ask him what it was, he tells me it's a secret. He kisses me playfully on the nose. Yes, I think, my Peeta is finally back.

Peeta POV The next week was a blur of IV's, therapy sessions, and medications. I try my hardest to remain positive throughout the whole thing, but it becomes difficult. Delly and Effie visit me often, and sometimes even Haymitch swings by. Everything looked perfect. But it wasn't. Deep inside, I knew better. The probability of my attacker coming back is high, considering I haven't moved places in a few weeks. That fear is ever present now, as I lay here in my bed alone. I wonder what my father would think of me now? Preparing to be a dad, going through so much and not being there for Katniss through her pregnancy. He would have been disappointed. Today, though, today my worst fears were realized. I was asleep, tired and emotionally drained from hard therapy sessions. All of a sudden, there are a pair of hands around my neck. My eyes fly open, and I immediately grip my attackers wrists. The air is stripped from my lungs until my vision becomes grainy and black spots cover the world. Then Katniss comes in. She doesn't hesitate to fire off a roundhouse kick into my attacker's side. He takes a hand off of my neck and I take the opportunity to kick him in the stomach. He goes flying backward into the wall, knocked out. She whips around to face me. I am still struggling to get air into my lungs. She rushes over and embraces me. I can't breathe anymore, and the world goes black.

I awake to the sound of a heart monitor. The steady beeping is both reassuring and annoying. I somehow gather enough strength to open my eyes. Katniss' worried face is the first thing I see. I smile at her. She embraces me, crying hysterically. I rub circles on her back, hushing her. She calms slightly and kisses my cheek. "You had me so worried." she whispered in my ear. I clutch her tighter in my arms. "I know." I shut my eyes a moment, and just live in the feel of the woman I love. It is then that I realize we are not alone. Haymitch and Effie sit in the room by the door. I smile at them. Effie gives me her "big, big, big day!" grin. Haymitch makes an attempt at what I assume to be a smile. I'll never forget that- not as long as I live. Forget... Have I forgotten something? I think so. I forgot how I got here. What happened to me? I scan my memory for answers. Nothing. I get a good look at Katniss under the florescent lights. Tear tracks line her reddened face. My eyebrows furrow in confusion. Why was she crying? Then the flashes come. Oh. Oh. I almost died. But by what hand? I search my memories. Nothing but dark spots. Guilt overcomes me. I have done nothing but make my wife suffer, and consume her with worry. And she is carrying my child. I am filled with shame. "I'm sorry." I whisper. Her head raises toward me. "For what?" she asks. In response, I press my lips against hers. *** Katniss POV Peeta was much more himself in those next few days. His bright, positive attitude was back- so much so that I wonder if it ever vanished in the first place. He started painting again, and he started being more attentive to my needs, which was a breath of fresh air in my hectic life. But during the night, things grew worse. He would cry, kick, and scream himself hoarse during a nightmare, and they were occurring up to four times a night. His habit of thumb sucking has come back in full during the night. During the day he found the strength to keep on going, but at night his walls crumpled down. During the night, he had me restrain his wrists to the bed, for fear of hurting himself or others. He would wake up with bloody wrists. I tend to ask him about his nightmares, and some I could have predicted: the arena, torture, the rape, But some shocked me. Some were memories of his mother's abuse to him- when worse came to worse, she would make him carry two to three 100-pound bags of flour across the store and back. If he refused, he would be slapped across the face. To counteract these nightmares, I would remind him of something good that happened. My favorite tale to tell came from the first hunger games... We were in the cave, Peeta and I. It had been a relatively quiet morning, and we had spent it just talking. At the time, we were discussing Rue and how she loved my mockingjay pin. All of a sudden, Peeta blurts out: "I wrote you a song." I was stunned. My mood turned coy. "Really? May I hear it?" he shook his head. I frowned. "Why not?" I ask. "you'll think it's stupid." "No I won't Peeta, I promise. Please?" he hesitates a moment, and then turns his back to me. "It's a little bit funny, this feeling inside I'm not one of those who can easily hide I don't have much money, but boy if I did I'd buy a big house where we both could live If I was a sculptor, but then again, no Or a man who makes potions in a traveling show I know it's not much, but it's the best I can do My gift is my song, and this one's for you And you can tell everybody this is your song It may be quite simple, but now that it's done I hope you don't mind, I hope you don't mind that I put down in words How wonderful life is now you're in the world I sat on the roof and I kicked off the moss Well, a few of the verses, well, they've got me quite cross But the sun's been quite kind while I wrote this song It's for people like you that keep it turned on So excuse me forgetting, but these things I do You see I've forgotten if they're green or they're blue Anyway the thing is what I really mean Yours are the sweetest eyes I've ever seen And you can tell everybody this is your song It may be quite simple, but now that it's done I hope you don't mind, I hope you don't mind that I put down in words How wonderful life is now you're in the world I hope you don't mind, I hope you don't mind that I put down in words How wonderful life is now you're in the world." By the end of the song, we are dancing together, spinning madly in the cave. He ends dipping me in his arms. "That was wonderful." I breathe. His lips are inches from mine. "I'm glad you liked it." He says, pulling on a charming smile. "Liked it? I-" and I can say no more for his lips are on mine. "-Loved it." I gasp. We both smile, and he kisses me again. By the time my story is finished, Peeta is always out cold. I like to curl up next to him, so that when he has nightmares I can hold him in my arms, but my stomach has gotten too big for such luxuries. Stupid pregnancy fat. Oh well, the end result will be worth it. I kiss the top of Peeta's head and wish him goodnight. He kisses me on the cheek and slips his thumb into his mouth. Before I can say anything more, he is asleep.

Peeta recovered quickly in those next two weeks. He still has regular therapy sessions with Doctor Ordin, but his nightmares have decreased dramatically, as has his thumb sucking, which is nearly gone completely. Occasionally, I still catch him at it, but when I do he stops immediately. I am now seven months into my pregnancy, and am excited for the baby. Peeta was released from the hospital, and immediately started working on the baby's nursery. He assembled the crib, changing table, dresser, and a mobile. He says he wants to paint the baby's room, and I wholeheartedly agreed. He went to the store and picked up several different shades of reds, oranges, yellows, and pinks. It took me a second to realize what he was making. Then it hit me. He's making the perfect sunset. I break into a huge smile. Peeta loved sunsets- we watched one together during the quarter quell. "It's perfect." I whisper. I put a hand on my stomach. He looks back at me and grins. He kisses my cheek and my stomach before shooing me out of the room. He didn't want me to see it until it was done- not to mention the fumes that could hurt the baby. I sit on the couch, exhausted from my long day. I feel myself sink into the cushions and give a sigh of content. I never really got to relax during my pregnancy. I suppose I didn't need to until now. But Peeta is becoming so over zealous about everything. He refuses to let me lift a finger, for fear that it may hurt the baby. I sigh. He is so ridiculous sometimes. He isn't wrong about me not having to over exert myself, but there's a limit to these things. I get a good look at our living room. The green carpet, the white walls lined with Peeta's beautiful paintings. This was home. Such a wonderful change from the white, dreary rooms of the hospital. God only knows Peeta was the only reason I stayed. Was there anything I wouldn't do for him? Nope. Nothing. I get bored quickly and decide to walk around a bit. I attempt to get up, but my swollen stomach is making Things impossible. Drat! I give it one more shot. Aha! There it is! Note to self: grip the back of the couch for support. A pang of hunger strikes me. I get some soup from the kitchen. I get a bowl and sit at the kitchen table. I sip it, but then almost immediately spit it back out. Ugh! Too salty. I dump the rest of my bowl outside. I sigh, bored out of my wits. I have nothing to do. This should be a good thing, but to me it is terrible. What am I to do now? I do not know. Suddenly, Peeta comes into the room. I smile lovingly at him and he leans down to kiss my cheek. "Almost done?" I ask. "Should be finished by tomorrow night at the latest." He says. I grin. He helps me up and leads me into our bedroom. He lays on his side and I curl up against him. He kisses my head and strokes my hair, gently brushing it back from out of my eyes. I rub his back. I kiss him gently on the lips. He grins and kisses me back. I curl my hands into his hair, and soon we are both asleep.

The next day, Peeta goes to the store and brings back several cans of green, brown, and blue paint. I try to decipher what he is trying to paint next, but it doesn't ring any bells. The next few hours are filled with anxious waiting and boredom. Finally, Peeta comes out and tells me it's ready. He covers my eyes and leads me toward the nursery. The stench of fresh paint overwhelms me, and I wrinkle my nose in disgust. "Are you ready?" he asks. I nod eagerly. "Ok. One, two, three!" he removes his hands from my eyes. I gasp. The wall opposite the crib is a beautiful sunset glimmering over the ocean. Hues of red, orange, and deep yellows call out to me from the painting and I step back. The ocean itself is a deep, rich, almost navy blue. Yellow rays glint off of the surface of the horizon. Then I look at the next wall. It is a forest, much like the one we go to in district twelve. The trees are lush and green, with earth tones of deep brown. Spots of sun squeak through the tops of some of the trees. It is breathtaking. The next Wall is painted a light blue And holds the dresser, covered with several empty photo albums. Several of the drawers were already filled with baby clothes. The wall next to the crib held a window with dark blue curtains with a moon design on them. Sunlight pours into the room, and I can see the grassy fields of the forest just beyond the horizon. It is absolute perfection. "Oh Peeta," I whisper, "It's beautiful." He wraps his arms around my waist and whispers, "I was hoping you'd like it." I grin slyly at him. "like it? I-" and as expected, he kisses me. "-Love it." he is grinning ear to ear. I put a hand to my stomach. "I just hope he likes it." Peeta turns me around in his arms, kneels down in front of me, lifts my shirt, and kisses my swollen stomach. "He will." Peeta looks up at me, blue eyes ablaze, and I can see hope, love, peace, and laughter radiating from him. His smile gives me complete reassurance for the future. He stands and holds me in his arms. I automatically wrap my arms around his neck. He pecks me on the cheek, and, for a moment, we were infinite.

The next month Came and went like a summer storm. Before I knew it, my due date had arrived. Peeta and I walked calmly into the hospital, and just before we entered, a searing pain shot through my abdomen. Water dripped onto the floor. Peeta calmly explains things to a nurse, who sets me in a wheelchair. I squeeze Peeta's hand tighter with every contraction. It was turning purple. I had been telling him ever since we first found out I was pregnant not to take anything I said during labor seriously. Thank God I did. I figured I would be in terrible pain during labor- that much was a given, but this- this was complete agony. It took all my grit not to cry out. Then, I am being laid on a bed. I gasp when the contraction ends. I look at Peeta- his lips are pursed in thought. When he realizes I am looking at him, he smiles at Me reassuringly. Within the next few hours I felt I did alright. I kept a good face on for Peeta and warmly greeted those who came to visit me- I.e. Effie, Haymitch, and my mother. Peeta stayed by me the entire time. In the next six hours, I lost any optimism I once possessed. I felt that I would either die from lack of oxygen after screaming my lungs out or of pain. By the sixteenth hour, I was a pure, grade-A bitch. "I want drugs! I mean it, Peeta, if they won't give me any you can shoot me! This is bull- aagh!" And the pain was back, breaking me in half. Peeta calmly maintained his composure and calm, which was beginning to irritate me. He steps back a bit, knowing I can be lethal when I'm upset. He rings for the doctor, who checks my cervix and then tells me to push. I scream obscenities at Peeta, calling him all sorts of names until I run out of air. "he's crowning! One more push, Katniss!" I scream, yell and finally collapse onto the bed in a heap. The doctor holds up the crying baby. "It's a boy!" He declares hugely. "Dad, would you like to cut the cord. Peeta nods eagerly, although I suspect he had trouble cutting it after I squeezed his hand so hard. If nothing else I must have bruised it severely. At worst I may have broken a few bones. Then, the doctor holds a blue blanket swathed bundle out to me. The world stops spinning. He is perfect- his hair is the color of Peeta's but he has my eyes. His nose is shaped like Peeta's fathers. "Have you chosen a name?" the doctor asks. I nod, my eyes not leaving the baby in my arms. "Phoenix." I whisper. Phoenix- the mythological bird who, when old, bursts into flames but then is reborn from the ashes. Phoenix, whose tears have healing powers- certainly he has healed us. After all, what better name for the son of the girl on fire? I knew, as long as I lived, that this would be my taste of eternity. I look up at Peeta, who is crying and smiling at Phoenix. I hand Peeta the baby and he immediately smiles. Our son has already stolen his heart- just like I knew he would. I can see the train of Peeta's thoughts as he pictures all of the wonderful things he will get to do with his son- hiking, sports, baking. He can't wait to get to it. I can. Peeta kisses me on the top of my head and hands me our son. I stare at him in wonder. I will never cease to be amazed at what we have created together. We have created life that was ignited when the boy with the bread chose the girl on fire at the age of five.

I am released from the hospital two days later. Peeta walks next to me as I carry Phoenix in my arms. Since we didn't exactly have a lot of options for godparents, we decided to ask Effie and Haymitch, knowing that their wisdom will never be outranked by anyone else- ok well maybe not Haymitch's but Effie's definitely will. Effie eagerly accepts- no surprise there. When we asked Haymitch (Who was actually completely sober- who knew?) he paused for a long moment and then nodded, throwing both Peeta and myself for a loop. Now, as I lay in my bed with Peeta breathing steadily next to me and Phoenix asleep, I welcome my new place in the world, not as the girl on fire, or as a victor of the hunger games, but as a mother, which I now know was what I was meant to be all along.

THE END


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